


It doesn't hurt (As long as you are with me)

by lunasenzanotte



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Angst, Character Death, Discrimination, Dystopia, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Hurt/Comfort, Love at First Sight, M/M, Mild Blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21723703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunasenzanotte/pseuds/lunasenzanotte
Summary: Anyone found guilty of speaking against the regime is forced to wear red tape over their mouth whenever they are in public, to prevent them from speaking to anyone, and to let everyone know what they did. People wouldn’t even speak to these persons, nicknamed “The Mutes”. Sascha is a Mute, Dominic for some reason does talk to him.
Relationships: Dominic Thiem/Alexander Zverev
Comments: 41
Kudos: 64





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [furiousflamewolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/furiousflamewolf/gifts).



> I've had this idea for a really long time, but I couldn't find a pairing that would work in my main fandom. So here I am, trying with these two.

It’s a part of the morning routine.

Shoes. Jacket. Red tape over his mouth.

The tape that the government so generously supplies to him. It’s cheaper than putting people in prison, he supposes, and safer. They let them imprison themselves, and the society lets them know they are not welcome outside of that small prison.

_You said a stupid thing once, we’ll make sure you won’t say it again._

Sascha used to be scared to leave the house with the tape on. He had thought he would never get used to it. But it’s human nature to get used to the worst of things.

The library he works at is fairly close to his home. He’s grateful for not having to take the subway or bus, as he always feels trapped surrounded by people with no way to escape. And people who are bored on their commute always tend to stare at him, for simply not having anything better to stare at.

The small elevator takes him underground, to the inventory. He is quite lucky to have at least some work, as there are not many jobs that wouldn’t require speaking, and even those that don’t, the employers will rather give to rightful citizens. Still, sometimes he wishes he could do something where he would see the daylight for more than a couple hours before sunset.

Björn, his boss, is the living proof that they see little to no sunlight, because he almost looks like a ghost. Truth is that Björn spends way more time at work than he would have to. He quite possibly lives there among the books. At least Sascha doesn’t remember ever seeing him leave.

He spends the morning putting returned books back on the shelves and looking for orders that come from upstairs. He could do this work with his brain completely switched off, and when he thinks about it, he feels like it’s exactly what the government intended.

At one o’clock, he knocks on Björn’s table and hands him a piece of paper to tell him he’s going on lunch break. Björn peeks out from behind the two tall piles of books.

“Yeah, sure, run,” he says. “I’ll catalogue these and leave them for you to stamp, okay?”

Sascha nods. Another work to do with brain switched off, but he knows better than to complain. After all, Björn is a rightful citizen and is grateful to do this work. There are much worse jobs.

He doesn’t meet anyone on the way home. As soon as he closes the door of the apartment after himself, he takes off the tape and heads to the kitchen. He opens the fridge and sighs. He will clearly need to go shopping today.

~ ~ ~

Whenever he needs to do the shopping, Sascha always waits until a later hour, so that there are less people at the shopping center. The less stares he gets, the better.

He’s learned to get everything as quickly as possible, he has the shortest way around the supermarket memorized like a bee dance. The self-check out is also a gift from heaven, and he sighs with relief when he walks out of the supermarket area.

Too soon.

Someone crashes into him, hard. Sascha manages not to fall himself, but his bag of groceries has no such luck, things spilling everywhere.

The boy that crashed into him looks positively terrified. “Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” he exclaims.

As he looks at Sascha, there is the second of lingering. Sascha is used to it. It’s the typical reaction people have when they _realize_. They usually try to get away as soon as possible after that.

But the boy just crouches on the ground and reaches for the first thing on the floor. “I’ll help you,” he says.

Sascha just stares at him, and it takes long seconds before he gets on the floor as well, picking up his groceries.

“Happens to me all the time,” the boy sighs, handing Sascha the cans.

Sascha takes them and starts throwing them in the bag hastily. A part of him wants to get out of here as soon as possible. The other part of him wants to cry, because it’s the first time since eternity that someone talks to him like he’s… like he’s not…

“I’m Dominic, by the way,” the boy says and offers Sascha his hand.

Sascha shakes it, and the boy keeps holding him, pulling him to his feet.

“You are okay, right?” he asks. “I didn’t hurt you, or anything?”

Sascha shakes his head. He knows that he must look shocked, or offended, or something along those lines, and he feels his eyes stinging. It’s partly sadness and partly rage. He wishes he could at least say thank you. He wishes he could tell the boy that he could hardly hurt him, since he’s about a head shorter than him. These moments, when things he would say just keep going through his mind without him being able to actually say them, are the worst.

Finally, the moment of them holding hands gets awkwardly long, and Sascha twists his hand out of the boy’s grip. He holds his bag of groceries closer, like it can protect him from anything, and he turns away. It would be probably considered rude under different circumstances, but there’s not much he can do differently.

He ends up almost getting run over by a car in the parking lot, because his mind is still racing. It’s ridiculous that he’s not had any social interaction with a stranger for so long that it’s managed to completely throw him off balance.

Despite the late hour, he decides to take the longer way home, because he needs to calm down.

~ ~ ~

When he walks inside his apartment, the phone is ringing like crazy. He still has the landline because it’s on the long list of rules he has to keep, but the only person that ever truly uses it is Mischa. Sometimes, Sascha feels like his custodian has already had enough keeping an eye on him and employed Mischa to do it instead.

“Hey,” Mischa’s voice says, and there’s relief in it. “I was already worried, it’s…”

“I know when my curfew is, don’t worry,” Sascha says.

Mischa sighs. “But you push it, sometimes,” he says.

Sascha doesn’t, not anymore. In the first year or two, he used to, he wanted to know how far he could go. He soon found out that the leash he was on was fairly short, and it was better not to provoke whoever was holding it.

“Are you calling just to check that I am home?”

“No, I’m… it’s been a long time since you visited,” Mischa says. “It would be nice if… I mean… mom and dad would be glad.”

Sascha takes a deep breath. “That’s not up to me,” he says.

“But as long as you are keeping the rules, they have no reason to deny you… you don’t have any problems, do you?”

“None that I know of,” Sascha says.

He could be in trouble without knowing about it, of course.

“So you’ll apply for the permit?” Mischa asks.

Sascha closes his eyes. Somehow, lying is easier with closed eyes. “I’ll try.”

~ ~ ~

This time, Sascha visits the shopping centre on his way back home. He can’t wait to get home and fall right into bed. Work was exhausting, and longer than usual, with the authorities sending over another list of books that were supposed to be taken out of the register. Which meant looking for all the copies and loading them into crates. Björn was always in a bad mood when it happened. He once told Sascha that a society that starts burning books is bound to destroy itself. Sascha didn’t say anything, because he obviously couldn’t, and he also knew better at this point.

“Hey!” a voice says behind him.

Sascha braces himself for whatever unpleasant is about to come. Generally, whenever someone stops him, it’s something unpleasant. In the best case, they just want to ask him something, and when they realize it’s useless, they turn away with a look of disgust or some nasty comment. In the worst case, they know very well that he can’t defend himself, and they take advantage of it.

But the least he can do to feel like he has at least some dignity left is to look the people in the eyes. Maybe it’s not the wisest thing, but it makes him feel a bit better about himself.

He turns around and looks at the person. And blinks. It’s the boy he met at the supermarket a few days ago.

Also, the boy is smiling. An unusual sight.

“Hi,” he says. “I… I hoped I’d see you here again.”

Sascha raises his brows.

“I… this is awkward,” the boy - Dominic, as Sascha remembers - runs a hand through his hair, ruining his perfect hairstyle. “I thought I’d…

Sascha moves closer, because people are starting to give them strange looks as they are standing in everyone’s way. Dominic reaches in the bag he’s carrying over his shoulder, pulls out something that looks like an agenda, scribbles something down and then rips the paper out, handing it to Sascha.

“If I’m annoying, or if you think I’m an idiot, just throw this in the thrash,” he says. “But I thought that when I got the second chance, I should at least try.”

Sascha is just looking at him, trying to process that he’s apparently being asked out. The paper clearly contains Dominic’s number.

“I mean, you can do that, right? Text or call, I mean… I mean it’s not forbidden for…” he blushes before he finishes the sentence.

Sascha doesn’t blame him, because how else is he supposed to say it? It’s admirable that he actually did educate himself on the rights of people the society would rather not see at all. He nods and slips the paper in his pocket.

“I better go before I embarrass myself even more,” Dominic mutters to himself. “I’m so sorry… for everything.”

Sascha just stares as Dominic practically runs away. He has to remind himself that he needs to get his groceries before the time is up.

~ ~ ~

Sascha only manages to kick off his shoes, take off the tape and make way to the kitchen when the phone starts to ring. He throws the bags on the counter and goes to answer it.

This time, he recognizes the voice of his custodian.

“Routine check-up,” Roger says. “I have to tick things off in my agenda.”

“No problem,” Sascha says. He’s really not even mad at this point. He has to destroy books, and he’s not happy about it, but it’s his job. Roger is probably also not happy about checking if people are home after their curfew, but it’s his job.

“Everything okay otherwise?”

“Yeah,” Sascha says. “Good.”

“I’m just asking because your brother phoned me this week to ask why I didn’t give you the permission for a family visit, and I was mildly confused, because I’ve never gotten an application. It either got lost in the mail or…”

“It didn’t get lost,” Sascha says quietly.

“I thought so,” Roger sighs. “Look, I know that I’m here to tell you how to keep the rules, and I can’t tell you what to do with your rights. Still, I think that you should take every chance to keep your life normal at least to some point.”

“My life is my life,” Sascha says, looking at his reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall above the phone. “I’ve already destroyed it beyond any repair. The least I can do is to keep my family’s life normal at least to some point.”

“By erasing yourself from it?”

“Maybe,” Sascha mumbles. “That everyone knows what I did is enough. What it did to _me_ … I don’t think my family should look at that.”

“It’s your choice,” Roger says. “But I want you to know that I’m ready to sign it… if it arrives.”

“I know,” Sascha says. “Thanks.”

When he hangs up, he keeps looking at his reflection for a while, until he can’t bear it anymore.

Back in the kitchen, he warms up a can of tomato soup, which is the most elaborate dinner he’s capable of at the moment, and sits at the table. Normally, he doesn’t mind these lonely evenings, he’s already used to them after all those years, but after he had this talk with Roger, it feels somehow worse.

Suddenly, he thinks about how it would be nice not to be alone anymore.

He reaches in his pocket and looks at the crumpled piece of paper, then he grabs his phone and opens text messages.

He has no idea what to write.

He finishes the whole soup and moves to the bedroom without having written anything. Calling is out of question. He hasn’t talked to anyone except Mischa and Roger for so long that he would probably not be able to form a single word. Also, if he sends a text, it still gives Dominic a chance to make up his mind and back out of the situation.

Plopping onto the bed, Sascha closes his eyes and replays the two short encounters with Dominic. He has got no idea why Dominic would be interested in him. The usual reaction people have to people like Sascha, the ones they call “the Mutes”, is to pretend they don’t exist. Why would Dominic act differently? And if he liked Sascha… what would he like about him, if his whole existence just screamed _trouble_?

If anything, Sascha needs to find out. He grabs the phone and sends the message before he can change his mind.

_You’re not annoying, and I don’t think you’re an idiot._

The answer comes before he even manages to put the phone down.

_Good to know :)_

Before he can start typing again, another message appears on the screen.

_What’s your name?_

Clearly, Dominic doesn’t want to back out just yet.

_Sascha. Alexander, but don’t call me Alexander._

A smiley face comes in response, followed by another message.

_I’m Dominic, in case you forgot._

At this point, Sascha realizes that he has a dumb smile on his face. He is literally smiling at his phone.

_I didn’t forget._

There is a longer pause at that, as neither of them probably know what to write. Sascha starts a message twice and deletes it afterwards, because he deems it too stupid. Then he decides to take the easy way out.

_What are you doing?_

Dominic seems to be relieved on the other end, because he catches on quickly.

_Studying. Or trying to._

_Am I distracting you?_ Sascha asks, offering another opportunity to end the madness.

_Yes_ , comes the response. _Since I met you for the first time._

Sascha has to blink twice, because the thought is just too wild. Before he can catch his breath, another message comes.

_Are you free Saturday afternoon?_

Sascha blinks twice again.

_Why?_

It’s a dumb question, really, but he needs to buy himself some time.

_I’m asking you out, if it’s not obvious._

Sascha sighs. It is obvious, but he doesn’t know what to do with the situation. It’s not like he doesn’t want to, but mostly, he can’t do what he wants to do.

_I don’t know what you’re expecting, but I would hate to disappoint you. Which I probably will, because… I’m not going to be very amusing or anything._

He falls back into the pillows and closes his eyes. For a moment, he felt normal, until it hit the breaking point, as always, and he realized that he was not, and was never going to be normal again.

A quiet ding tears him out of the gloomy thoughts.

_That means you can go?_

Dominic is either a bit dumb, or he simply refuses to understand. Sascha takes a deep breath.

_Yes._

~ ~ ~

Saturday comes quicker than he thought. The library closes at twelve, and there aren’t many people, which leaves Sascha enough time to panic whenever he thinks about the meeting - he refuses to call it _date,_ because how could he possibly date anyone?

He puts a book on the wrong shelf twice, and Björn just rolls his eyes.

All the time, he tries to convince himself that it is some kind of a joke. It can’t by any means be serious. Not like he suspects Dominic of trying to hurt him, he looks too nice, but… what does he know? It could be a stupid bet. Or Dominic just wanted to do something daring. Maybe he is not even going to come.

But when he comes to the square, Dominic is waiting for him near the fountain, just like he said he would, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, smiling nervously.

“Hi,” he says.

Sascha nods. His mind is racing. Dominic actually being there is even worse than the other option.

“I… you’re probably going to kill me, but I’ve been thinking about what to do… and I couldn’t think of anything,” Dominic says. “Is going for a walk too stupid?”

Sascha shakes his head. He wishes he could tell Dominic that it’s not stupid at all; he would never just go for a walk by himself. It’s a risk not worth taking. He has his shortcuts and safe routes. But going with _someone_ … that’s a whole different thing.

If he was afraid of awkward silence, Dominic doesn’t let it happen. Sascha’s heard about people finishing each other’s sentences, but this is a whole new level, because Dominic is saying the sentences for him.

“Do you work around here?” he asks when they are passing through one of the main streets and something in the way Sascha moves or looks around alerts him. He seems to have some sixth sense that he uses to read him.

Sascha nods and points to the door of the library.

“Oh wow,” Dominic says. “I’ve spent so much time here, and I never got to see you. You don’t work… directly in the rooms, do you?”

Sascha shakes his head and points to the ground.

Dominic frowns. “Inventory?”

He’s really good at this.

“Jesus, if you ever got an order for about fifteen old books on the laws concerning privacy policies, that idiot was me and I’m sorry,” Dominic says. “I mean, I don’t read that for fun, I study law.”

Sascha laughs. He didn’t get that order, but Björn did, and it was one of the rare occasions Sascha heard him cuss.

“If I talk too much, just slap me or something,” Dominic says.

Sascha wouldn’t slap him in a million years. Being talked to is so unusual that he can’t get enough, it’s addicting. He doesn’t even care about where they are going, it only registers in his brain distantly that they’ve crossed a bridge and entered the public park.

There is a poster hanging on the wall. Whatever it’s advertising, Sascha doesn’t even notice. His mind fixes at the first word of the slogan. _Why?_

He pulls on Dominic’s sleeve, points at the word and then at himself.

“Why… you?” Dominic frowns. “Like… why I like you or…?”

Sascha nods and touches the tape. Something flickers in Dominic’s face. Something like understanding.

“You know, I… when I first saw you, I didn’t even notice at first,” Dominic says. “I thought that I’d just seen the most gorgeous boy ever, and… don’t laugh!”

Sascha apologizes with a gesture. Dominic bites down on his lower lip.

“The most gorgeous boy ever, with the prettiest eyes ever, and I immediately knew it was special, I felt something I’ve never felt before, and honestly… a thousand red tapes couldn’t change anything about it.”

He takes a step closer. Sascha lifts his eyes to him. Dominic’s hand touches his arm tentatively, and the touch is so light he can barely feel it through the thick fabric of his sweatshirt. Then he leans closer and presses his lips against Sascha’s, ignoring the tape like it doesn’t exist. Sascha’s eyes flood with tears.

Dominic almost jumps back. “I… I’m sorry, I… if you didn’t want to, I…”

Sascha grabs his hand and pulls him closer. Dominic visibly calms down, but his cheeks are still flushed.

“Once in a thousand years I kiss someone, and I make you cry. Jesus Christ.”

Sascha shakes his head and pulls them over to a bench. For a moment, he tries to imagine what it would be like if they could actually talk to each other. Then he bans himself from having such thoughts. It is what it is. If he starts to hate himself for what he did, they’ve won.

Something has to reflect in his face, because Dominic gives him a worried look. “You don’t regret it, do you? I mean… going out with me.”

Instead of answering, Sascha just tucks his head into Dominic’s shoulder.

~ ~ ~

The sun is setting when they arrive at Sascha’s house. Sascha has completely forgotten about time, but it seems like Dominic is well aware of the curfew, and he made sure they left the park in time. They still have about fifteen minutes left.

“When can I see you again?” Dominic asks.

Sascha shrugs. It’s not like his agenda is full, after all.

“Tuesday?” Dominic asks with hope in his voice. “I have lectures until three, and then I need to go to the library… No crazy book orders, promise!”

Sascha laughs.

“I could wait for you,” Dominic says. “Would it be okay?”

God, arranging things like this was so damn stupid and difficult. Luckily, Dominic caught on in time.

“We’ll text each other, okay?”

Sascha nods, and then reaches for Dominic’s hand. Dominic blushes. Sascha wonders if he’s actually dated anyone before Sascha… or if they are both on the same boat. Despite the logic - Dominic had way more opportunities, and he’s handsome and smart and apparently quite well-off - something tells him that he doesn’t have much more experience than him.

Sascha pulls out the phone the moment he closes the door after himself. It feels like his head will explode with all the things he wishes he could have said. He types so fast that the autocorrect is having a hard time making the message readable.

_Thanks for today._

Dominic must be still standing outside, or just turning the corner, but the answer comes almost immediately.

_Was I too annoying?_

Sascha actually chuckles, but then the smile dies on his lips. _Not at all. Just wish I could have been a better companion._

He throws the phone on the sofa and goes to the kitchen to grab something to drink, but the sound of an incoming message forces him to come back and pick up the phone again.

_You were perfect._

A second later:

_You ARE perfect._


	2. Two

Tuesday can’t come soon enough. They spend the whole Sunday texting, and although Sascha wishes they could have the conversation face to face, he still enjoys it immensely. It reminds him of the old times when he actually had friends, and it’s a relief that he can still talk about normal things. Dominic introduces him to his whole family, including his dog, via pictures he sends him, and also to his terrible taste in music.

On Monday, work takes up most of his time, and he barely has time to text Dominic during the day. Dominic also responds late, so Sascha assumes that he’s at school.

It’s almost the end of his shift when a new order comes from above. Björn is busy flipping through some papers at his desk, most likely dealing with the new catalogue system the government has ordered them to adopt. Björn, who probably spent half of his lifetime developing his own system here, had a mental breakdown when he found out about it.

Sascha prints out the order and heads to the section where the book is supposed to be located. Only that the book simply isn’t there.

For a split second, he thinks that he’s made a mistake again. That he was lost in thoughts and had put the book in the wrong spot again.

Then it hits him.

The book can’t be there, because it is one of those they took out just a week ago. They are probably still in the system, but the physical copies are gone. And if they were on the list, it means that they are now banned. And if someone requested a banned book… then Sascha is obliged to report it.

His head spins. It’s never happened before, and he had hoped it would never happen to him. He kept telling himself that he wouldn’t do it, that he wouldn’t let it happen to someone else. But now that he’s holding the piece of evidence in his hand, it’s not as easy as he had thought. If he reports it, he will destroy someone’s life, same as someone destroyed his years ago. He never found out who it was, and this person will likely not find out either.

Or he could just save them from sharing his own fate. The temptation to just crumple the paper into a tiny ball and pretend he never got it is big. Maybe the person would get the hint if the order just wasn’t coming, and they would leave and never come back.

Maybe not. And then Sascha’s crime would be even worse.

Memories come back like a flood. Suddenly, he’s not in the library inventory, he’s in the tiny dark room they threw him in for hours, and he thought he would never see the sun again. They _told_ him he wouldn’t, unless he confessed to everything. And he knows that if he makes another mistake, it will not be hours or days, but years. If they won’t kill him right away. Having already crossed the law automatically makes him receive the highest possible sentence.

But he wants to see the sun again. He wants to see Dominic again. Maybe a week earlier, he would make a different decision, but now he desperately wants to live.

He takes a deep breath and walks over to Björn’s table, handing him the paper silently. Björn looks at it in confusion, then looks up, and something in Sascha’s face tells him everything. He doesn’t even try to look up the title of the book.

“Damn,” he mutters, and there is something akin to anger in his eyes, but he still picks up the phone to alert the security.

Sascha sits in the corner of the room through all of it, Björn talking on the phone to the director of the library, and then to the man in grey who comes down to collect the evidence. The man glances at Sascha once, and there is sly satisfaction in his eyes. They won, they broke him, and they know it very well.

Björn comes to him once the man is gone, having taken the order and also having downloaded the system records, which show that the order came through. “Go home, boy,” he says. “Nothing you can do here anymore.”

Sascha nods and packs his things. When he walks out of the library, the matte black car without license numbers is just leaving.

~ ~ ~

When he gets home, he curls up on the sofa. He doesn’t even switch on the lights. He wishes he could just fall asleep and not think about anything, but his mind is too restless.

Then he sees the display of his phone light up. He opens the messages, and finds a couple messages from Dominic, from hours ago. Other messages are now popping up at high speed.

_Sascha????_

_Are you okay?????_

_Just let me know if you made it home safe._

Sascha takes a deep breath and types a quick response.

_I’m safe._

Dominic replies immediately.

_But not okay?_

No, definitely not okay. Sascha wishes he could just tell him everything, but at the same time, he wonders what Dominic would think about him. Also, he would probably worry. And he doesn’t want that.

_I just had a bad day._

He’s not lying after all.

_At work or…?_

_Yeah, at work._

Dominic stops texting after that. He probably figures out that Sascha doesn’t want to talk about it. Well, or he has more important stuff to do than to listen to his whining.

Sascha goes to the kitchen and pours himself a glass of water. He should probably eat something, but he’s not hungry at all. He almost hopes the phone will ring and Mischa will bug him about the family visit, he would even be grateful for Roger checking on him, but no one calls. He’s bound to suffer alone.

He looks out of the window. The street is empty and dark, with only two lamps illuminating the wet sidewalk. It’s not like rightful citizens are subject to the curfew, but rarely anyone goes out after dark. Being outside after dark is suspicious. Nobody wants to do anything suspicious.

A quiet ding sounds from the sofa. Sascha picks up the phone.

_Can I still see you tomorrow?_

Sascha sighs with relief. He was worried that he had pushed Dominic away, which was maybe partly his intention, until he realized how much he needed him.

_Yes. I’ll need to go shopping, though. My fridge is completely empty._

_I can go with you. I promise I will not kill your food this time._

Finally, Sascha smiles.

_Okay._

~ ~ ~

Dominic is waiting in front of the library. Sascha wonders if he should nod or hug him or what would be the best way to greet someone without words. Before he can do anything, Dominic gives him a kiss on the cheek. Sascha doesn’t know if he should laugh or cry.

When he starts down the road that would lead them to the supermarket, Dominic pulls him back.

“I’ve got a car,” he says. “I thought it would be better for shopping. You could get more canned soup, you know.”

Sascha slaps his shoulder and Dominic laughs.

It’s been years since Sascha went anywhere by car. Probably with his family, before he started living alone. He’s not allowed to drive a car himself, and it never really bothered him, until now. He realizes how safe he feels, hidden from everything and everyone. He doesn’t even mind Dominic’s terrible choice of music.

When they arrive at the parking lot, it’s almost empty. People usually go shopping on Mondays, because exclusive goods are most likely to be in stock. Dominic switches off the engine and then turns to Sascha.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “I mean, yesterday…”

Sascha nods. He didn’t really sleep that well, but at work, nobody mentioned the incident again, and he figured that it would be best to just forget about it.

“Shall we go, then?”

Sascha nods again and gets out of the car. Dominic waits for him and takes his hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world. As they walk past the parked cars, a middle-aged woman gives them the most disgusted look Sascha’s ever seen, and he almost lets go of Dominic’s hand, but Dominic only pulls him closer.

It turns out that nearly nothing is in stock this week, and people around look really mad. Nobody complains too loudly, of course, but it’s obvious that the market is not doing too well. Even for late autumn, when local produce is scarce, the shelves are emptier than they should be.

“You’re lucky you love canned soup,” Dominic comments. “Because no one else does.”

Sascha rolls his eyes. It’s not like he _loves_ canned soup, but it’s one of the things he gets coupons for and can actually make. He would kill for some steak or apple pie, but he simply can’t afford it.

He ends up getting his canned soup, frozen fish, a box of bagged tea. Dominic keeps watching him in disbelief, like he can’t understand how Sascha is still alive if he eats this. He only seems to get it when Sascha pulls out his coupons at the register. Most likely, he didn’t know. People usually have a vague idea that life is different for people like Sascha, but they don’t know the details. They are not living that reality.

The way home is mostly silent. It seems like Dominic is trying to process everything, and Sascha wants to give him the chance to realize what dating someone like him means, and possibly walk away for his own sake. But when they get to Sascha’s house, Dominic doesn’t seem to be willing to leave at all.

“You know, I thought… it’s weird that I don’t even know what your voice sounds like,” he says. “I’ve even thought of calling you, but… I don’t know. It’s not the same, and I didn’t want to waste the moment like that.”

Sascha shakes his head and grabs Dominic’s hand. Dominic follows him like an obedient dog, only occasionally looking around the plain corridor, the walls that need to be repainted, and doors that all look the same. It’s a shabby apartment building in the worse part of town, nothing to show off. Dominic still looks curious.

Sascha unlocks the door of his apartment and lets Dominic in. Even now, Dominic doesn’t hesitate. Sascha closes the door behind them, turns to Dominic and takes off the tape.

“I think this way is better,” he says.

Dominic stares at him, caught completely off guard. Then he makes a step towards him.

“It is,” he whispers and reaches out to touch Sascha’s face. “So much better.”

Sascha smiles. “It’s weird that now I can… I don’t even know what to say.”

“That’s okay,” Dominic whispers. “It needs some therapy, we’ll work on that.”

“We both need therapy, probably,” Sascha laughs.

Dominic laughs as well, and it crosses Sascha’s mind that they have to both look mad to a certain point.

“Can I?” Dominic asks then.

“What?”

“Kiss you.”

“You already have.”

“Not like this.”

Sascha chuckles. “True. Okay. You can.”

Dominic smiles like a small child seeing a Christmas tree. He leans closer, but pauses an inch away from Sascha’s lips. “Don’t you close your eyes when you kiss?” he asks.

“No,” Sascha whispers. “You know how it is. When you lose one sense, you compensate with others. Self-preservation instincts.”

“But that’s for the times of danger,” Dominic says. “And you’re safe with me.”

Before Sascha can say anything, Dominic’s lips land on his without warning. And his eyes flutter shut.

~ ~ ~

“You’re so damn… beautiful… when you smile,” Dominic whispers when they finally move away from the door.

“I haven’t smiled for a long time,” Sascha says. “Actually, you’re maybe the first person who made me smile since… I don’t even remember.”

“Good,” Dominic grins. “How am I supposed to leave now, though?”

“You can stay,” Sascha says quietly.

“Can I?” Dominic asks. “I mean… are you not going to have any problems, or…”

“I can’t go out after eight, but there’s nothing about not having a visitor in my apartment in the rules,” he says. “If it’s not an illegal assembly or something.”

He is quite sure about this one. He’s had his family over for a couple times, and Mischa has been to his apartment many times when he was trying to talk some sense into him.

“Fine,” Dominic smiles. “Can I get some of that tea you bought?”

Sascha laughs and makes way to the kitchen. Dominic follows him hesitantly.

“How long have you lived alone for?” he asks.

“Since I started to work,” Sascha says. “I was grateful that I could move out of my parents’ house.”

“Why?”

Sascha sighs. “I’m not sure you would understand. My parents and my brother don’t understand it either. But… it just hurt much more to see what this did to them. And I think life is easier for them when I’m not around.”

He puts two cups on the table and sits down. It’s ridiculous, really, that they are sitting there like two elderly ladies, drinking a cup of tea.

“Can I… you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” Dominic says and bites on his lip. “But… I wanted to know… how…”

It’s quite obvious what he wants to ask.

“It was stupid, really,” Sascha mumbles. “I was in high school. It was at that time when everything was changing, and some of us thought that we could have a say in where this country was going. We wrote a pamphlet against the regime and thought that it would be a great idea if it simply started to appear in different places. Around the school, in the park, on public transport…”

“You wrote it?” Dominic asks.

“No,” Sascha smiles sadly. “Look at me, I had trouble writing a school essay. But on the day someone reported us, I was the only one who had the copies in my locker. My friends either managed to get rid of them, or they were lucky that day and didn’t have any left. The authorities had no evidence against them, and promised that nothing would happen to them if they testified against me and said that I was the author. They sold me quite easily.”

Dominic is looking at him with a mixture of shock and sadness. Sascha somehow feels the same, any time he realizes that he’s been forced to be silent since he was sixteen. All through the years when people have the most to say.

“My age saved me, partly, because I was sixteen, and they don’t usually execute people who are under eighteen. My age, the custodian that got assigned to my case, and the fact that it didn’t really get outside the school walls. If they wanted to execute me, or give me a life sentence, it would get more attention, and they didn’t want that. They had the culprit, they punished me, and no one dared to do anything after that. The purpose was served.”

“So they punished you for something you didn’t do,” Dominic states.

“I wasn’t innocent either,” Sascha shrugs.

“But maybe the sentence wouldn’t be so harsh, maybe…”

“Domi,” Sascha says and lays a hand on Dominic’s forearm. “Forget it.”

Dominic sighs and caresses Sascha’s hair. “I wish I could help you,” he whispers.

“You are already helping me,” Sascha smiles. “Remember yesterday when I told you I had a bad day at work?”

Dominic nods and looks at him, worry written all over his face.

“Someone requested a banned book at the library, and if that happens, I have to report it. But I knew that if I did it, the person would end up like this… like me. And I thought of just letting it go. Destroying the paper with the order and pretending it never happened. But I didn’t, because… because I thought of you. I reported it because I had to make sure I would see you again.”

“But you blamed yourself,” Dominic says.

“Yes. Although when they came to collect the evidence, they downloaded the system records. It was there, me destroying the paper wouldn’t change anything,” Sascha sighs. “But that man who came down to talk to Björn… that’s my boss… he gave me such look, I…”

“Sascha,” Dominic whispers and hugs him, holding him close. The position is uncomfortable as hell, because they are sitting on hard kitchen chairs, but Sascha doesn’t care.

“It was like they won,” he sniffles. “Like they finally broke me, made me their obedient dog, and all it took was a damn piece of red tape.”

“You did it for me,” Dominic says firmly. “Not for them. Remember that. It was for me, not for them.”

Sascha nods weakly and lifts his eyes to him.

“Okay,” he whispers. “For you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Sascha's crime is loosely inspired by the actions of the White Rose during WWII.


	3. Three

Since they first talked, Dominic doesn’t seem to get enough of it. Which means that he’s made Sascha’s place his second home, because it’s the only place where they can talk. On the days Dominic has lectures until late, or has other things to do, they at least call each other.

When the doorbell rings, Sascha is reading a book he took at work. It’s not like he likes reading, but the things he can do in his free time are quite limited. He’s not even allowed to have a TV, although he’s sure that there would be nothing worth watching anyway. Whenever he complained, Mischa told him that they didn’t even switch their TV on anymore.

When he opens the door, Dominic is standing at the doorstep and water is dripping from his hair.

“It’s raining,” he says.

“I see,” Sascha nods. “So what the hell are you doing outside?”

“I brought you something,” Dominic says and hands him an enameled metal tin. “Tea. The one I had here last time was quite disgusting.”

Sascha chuckles. “Thank you. I’ll make you some right away. You look like you need it.”

Dominic walks in and takes off the soaked jacket and shoes. It is not exactly warm inside Sascha’s apartment, but it’s definitely better than outside.

“What are you reading?” he asks, picking up the book on the coffee table.

“I don’t even know,” Sascha calls over his shoulder. “Some funny stories about dogs.”

Dominic walks up to him and looks at him like Sascha has a fever. “You are reading funny stories about dogs?”

“Yeah,” Sascha shrugs. “I couldn’t find anything better, and I don’t like reading. But I like dogs. So…”

Dominic rolls his eyes. “Okay. Good thing I’m here. I’m going to save your mental health.”

“Hey!” Sascha laughs. “What’s wrong with it? I’d love to have a dog. But I can barely feed myself, so…”

He hands Dominic the tea and blows on the surface of his cup. It smells much better than the bagged one he has. It smells like actual tea. It had to cost an insane amount of money. Given that Dominic doesn’t work yet… probably his family’s money.

“Your family… they don’t know about me, do they?” Sascha asks.

Dominic gives him a confused look. “Why?”

“I just thought…”

“Well, they know I’m dating someone,” Dominic says.

“But they don’t know anything about me, right?”

“They know you’re called Sascha, you’re tall, blond, with blue eyes, very nice, and you work in the library,” Dominic shrugs. “Anything else I should have mentioned?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I mentioned everything that was important.”

Sascha sighs.

“Important to me,” Dominic clarifies. “If you want to, I’ll tell them. I don’t mind.”

“But they will mind,” Sascha says and looks at him.

“You don’t know them,” Dominic says calmly. “You can’t know if they will or will not mind.”

Sascha just shrugs. He can’t imagine parents who would be happy that their son was dating a criminal with no future.

Dominic gets up to leave soon, saying that he has an important exam tomorrow that he still needs to study for. Sascha is fairly sure that he already knows everything, but Dominic will never be satisfied with himself.

“What are you doing on Sunday?” Dominic asks when he puts on his still wet jacket.

“Nothing. Why?”

Dominic grins. “What would you say to a little trip?”

“Trip?” Sascha asks in disbelief. “Where?”

“Somewhere nice,” Dominic shrugs. “Away from the city and the people.”

“I…” Sascha takes a breath.

“Is it a stupid idea?”

“No, I… I’d love to go,” Sascha says. “I just… don’t know if I can.”

Dominic’s face falls. “Oh.”

“I mean… I’ve never gone outside the city,” Sascha says. “Since… you know. So I never bothered to find out if it was against the rules or not.”

Dominic nods and thinks for a moment. “Well, who can we ask?” he asks then and pulls out his phone.

“My custodian,” Sascha says. “But I’d rather do it myself, if you don’t mind. I’ll text you afterwards.”

“Okay,” Dominic says. “But you _will_ ask.”

“I will. I promise.”

This time, he doesn’t have to close his eyes.

~ ~ ~

“If you are allowed to do what?” Roger asks, and there is some distant rustling sounding from the phone. He must be flipping through some papers on his desk.

“Go on a trip,” Sascha repeats. “Like… leave the city. Just for one day, I mean… I’d be back before the curfew.”

“Oh,” Roger says. “Okay. Give me a minute. Where did I… Novak, did you take anything from here? I swear if you took… oh, here, never mind. If you’re back before the curfew, I don’t see a problem with it. I mean, the curfew is a restriction in itself, so I don’t think any law specifies where you can or can’t go. If you told me where you were going, it would certainly look better in case someone would ask but…”

“I don’t know where I’m going yet,” Sascha says. “It’s that… someone invited me, but I had to ask first.”

“Okay. Fine. Well, you told me, I don’t think anyone would make anything of me not knowing the exact location. Just be back in time.”

“I will. Thanks.”

“I’m glad that you’re… you know," Roger says. "Keeping your life normal. Somehow.”

Sascha has to agree with him. He realizes that he’s always wanted this. This way is just easier. Knowing that Dominic can choose to walk away anytime it gets too much to bear. His family could never truly walk away from him.

“Yeah.”

“Fine. If that’s all, I have some work here… it’s chaos.”

Sascha hangs up and goes to the kitchen to retrieve his cell phone. There is already a message from Dominic, containing only question marks.

_I can go._

Dominic replies immediately. He is definitely _not_ studying.

_Great!!!_

And he is clearly more excited about the trip than Sascha is. But maybe it’s just that he doesn’t know what to expect, and he automatically expects something to go wrong.

_Where are we going?_ Sascha asks.

_It’s a secret._

Sascha rolls his eyes, although Dominic can’t see him.

A moment later, another message comes. It contains only a picture of some landscape, that tells Sascha absolutely nothing. It’s beautiful, though.

_I’m never entrusting you with any of my secrets. You would send random people pictures of them._

Dominic replies with a sad smiley face.

And Sascha had thought he was the childish one out of them two.

~ ~ ~

The rest of the week flies by incredibly fast. Sascha doesn’t even mind Björn’s grumpiness caused by the new system, nor the sudden surge of students ordering the strangest books that are hidden in the darkest, dustiest corners of the inventory. Thesis writing season has clearly just begun.

One day, Sascha asked Dominic if he was also writing his thesis. Dominic looked like he wanted to vomit, and he whispered that Sascha should not mention it again. Then he said: “I have two pages, the title and the acknowledgement.” Sascha wanted to laugh, and at the same time he wished he was scared only of not knowing what to write in some work people were only going to read once, and then they would discard it to the piles of others.

On Sunday, Sascha wakes up before sunrise. They agreed on leaving early, so that they would have enough time and still managed to get back before the curfew. He hasn’t gone on a trip for so long that he doesn’t even know what to wear. He doesn’t really have any outdoor clothes, because he doesn’t need them. He puts on the warmest sweatshirt he owns, and then searches for some shoes that could make it outside the city. Just when he’s putting on his jacket, his phone rings.

“You ready?” Dominic asks.

“Yeah,” Sascha says. “Where are you?”

“At your house. But I have a surprise.”

“What?”

“Look outside.”

Sascha walks to the window. Dominic is standing on the sidewalk with the phone in one hand, waving at him. Next to him, there is a large dog.

“This is Hugo,” Dominic says. “Mind if he comes with us?”

Sascha laughs. “No, not at all. I’ll be downstairs in a sec.”

He grabs his keys and opens the door. Then he stops dead in his tracks. He almost forgot. For the first time in years, he almost forgot.

He makes three steps back and puts on the red tape.

Dominic is waiting outside, trying to hold Hugo back, because the dog seems to be keen on greeting Sascha. “Hugi, geez… he likes you more than I thought he would. Love at first sight.”

Sascha would like to point out that they have this in common with Dominic. Immediately liking him without any reason.

They get in the car and Dominic switches on the heating.

“I would have told you where we were going, but I don’t think the name would tell you anything,” Dominic says. “I mean, I haven’t been there myself for a long time. I just remember it was nice there.”

Sascha nods and looks out of the window. It feels strangely liberating, leaving the city behind. The roads are almost empty. Sascha doesn’t know if it’s because of the early hour, the roads Dominic is picking, or if it’s a common trend nowadays.

“The last time I was there, I was still a kid. So I hope I don’t get lost or anything,” Dominic sighs.

He doesn’t explain why he wants to take Sascha there, though. Sascha isn’t sure if he actually knows. It seems to him that Dominic is acting on feelings here, and although it’s very endearing, Sascha knows it can also be dangerous.

The journey doesn’t take more than two hours. In the last part of it, they get off the main road and enter the forests, where the road is a thin snake going up. Sascha is starting to get a bit carsick, and Hugo doesn’t look happy in the backseat either. When the car stops, both are more than happy to get out.

Dominic locks the car. The road ends there, there is only a narrow path leading into the forest. Sascha can’t help but feel strange, like he is about to do something forbidden. Then Dominic takes his hand and smiles, and the feeling dissipates.

The forest around them is silent. It makes their silence much less awkward. It’s like they are _supposed_ to be silent here. The path leads up and sometimes almost disappears under their feet. Hugo is always ahead of them, only running back when they take too much time, to make sure they aren’t lost. From time to time, Sascha helps Dominic climb over the rocks and fallen trees, and Dominic makes fun of Sascha’s long legs.

Finally, the forest ends, and they are on top of a hill. The view opens in front of them like an illustrated book. It looks familiar, and Sascha realizes that it is what was on the photograph Dominic had sent him. Except it’s not entirely the same. There is a line crossing it now, cement columns and barbed wire, seemingly never-ending. The Fence.

“There used to be a village,” Dominic says, pointing somewhere below them. “My grandparents used to live there, before the Fence… or the border zone… moved, and they had to move out.”

Sascha nods. He’s heard about it, it all happened around the time he went to high school, and it was one of the reasons why he and his friends felt like they couldn’t stay silent. Villages were moved, then demolished. Certain zones could only be entered with special permission. There were armed guards patrolling the border now, the border that couldn’t be crossed anymore. It happened overnight, many families were torn apart, with some members stuck abroad.

He looks at the landscape and tries to imagine it without the Fence. He can’t. It’s like the past is so distant that he can’t bring it back even in his memory. And the freedom behind the Fence is so unreachable that he doesn’t even try to imagine it.

“We are alone here,” Dominic says and looks at Sascha. “You really don’t want to…”

Sascha shakes his head. Over the years, he had stopped believing that he was ever truly alone. Whatever he did and thought nobody saw him doing, they knew. Somehow they always knew.

He lays his head on Dominic’s shoulder, Hugo follows his example and puts his head in Dominic’s lap, and they watch the scene in silence. It’s the best illusion of freedom they are capable of creating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * The “Fence” is inspired by the Iron Curtain.


	4. Four

When Sascha leaves work, it’s raining outside. He wishes he could head right back home, but he needs to go to the shop, and also pick up a new kettle, because his old one has been broken for quite a long time, and he’s finally obtained the coupons to get a new one.

He pulls the hood of his sweatshirt over his head and heads towards the main street.

With the hood narrowing his view, he doesn’t see the uniformed guard until the booming voice sounds behind him.

“Stop right there!”

Sascha does, and so does the boy walking next to him. It seems like neither of them are sure who the command was aimed at. Although Sascha has way more reasons to think it was him.

There is one more sign of what he’s done, invisible, not intended for other people, but solely for the guards. The chip under his skin that immediately alerts any guard in a certain perimeter. It’s a thing that basically screams “this person should be wearing the tape, are they?” at any guard carrying the reader.

The guard looks at him, and Sascha’s heart starts beating faster. It doesn’t matter that he hasn’t done anything wrong, he can never be sure if he didn’t break a rule he didn’t know of. New rules are popping up every day.

But the guard’s eyes slide down the tape over his mouth, and then he looks at the other boy.

“You aren’t wearing the tape,” he states coldly.

Sascha gasps. He would never guess. The boy looked so confident, he even shot him a look of disgust when their eyes accidentally met.

When he looks around, he realizes that the crowd of people around them has scattered. The street is now nearly empty, with only a few of the shop owners peeking out of the doors, trying to find out what is going on and whether it’s safe for their customers to leave.

The guard has now pulled out a card with a short printed text. “You have committed the crime of perverting the course of justice, Article 3, failure to comply with a decision issued by the State,” he reads and pulls out the gun.

The shot isn’t as loud as Sascha thought it would be. The sound when the body hits the wet sidewalk seems to be much louder. Sickening.

Sascha doesn’t move. He can’t move. His feet have grown into the ground and his body is completely numb.

The guard looks at him and for a moment Sascha is convinced that he will shoot him as well, although he’s done nothing against the law, although he’s wearing his tape… But then he just rips Sascha’s hood off and shoves him forward. Maybe he also says something, but Sascha can’t hear him over the blood rushing in his ears.

He only gets as far as the first bench in the park. He sits on it and frantically searches his pockets for his phone. With shaking hands he sends a text to Dominic and then curls up on the bench.

~ ~ ~

Dominic appears merely ten minutes later.

“Oh my God, what…” he trails off, realizing it’s useless as a question. “Did anyone hurt you? Are you hurt?”

Sascha shakes his head. Dominic still runs his hands over his head and body, like he’s feeling for a broken bone.

“Okay, shh, it’s alright. I’ll take you home now and you’ll tell me everything, okay?” He wraps his arms around Sascha and holds him for a moment. It doesn’t help at all.

Sascha doesn’t remember the drive home. He doesn’t even remember how he got in the car. He thinks that Dominic walked him, practically dragged him along. He also had to find Sascha’s keys in his pocket and unlock the door.

Once they are inside the apartment, Dominic locks the door after them, almost like he’s afraid that something is chasing them, sits Sascha on the sofa and finds a blanket somewhere. He wraps Sascha in the blanket, although it’s quite clear that he’s not really shaking because he’s cold.

“Tell me,” he demands.

Sascha pulls the blanket closer. He thinks that he won’t be able to say anything that would make sense, but once he starts, the words just flow. Dominic is listening to him with wide eyes, and his face grows paler when Sascha gets to the end of the story.

“But you were wearing the tape,” Domi says. “As long as you are, you are safe.”

“I didn’t feel safe,” Sascha says and looks at him. “I… you didn’t see him. I thought he’d kill me.”

He covers his face with his hands and starts to sob. He couldn’t cry before, but now that he’s told the story, it feels like something heavy has lifted off his chest, and he can finally let it out.

“I’m staying here,” Dominic says resolutely, and fumbles with his phone. “There’s no way I’m leaving you alone in this state.”

“You don’t have to,” Sascha mumbles, but he’s so unconvincing that Dominic doesn’t even react. “I’m so sorry for getting you into trouble.”

“You’ve just seen someone being murdered in front of your very eyes,” Dominic says. “No need to apologize.”

“It wasn’t murder,” Sascha mumbles.

Dominic shakes his head. “But it was,” he whispers. “Of course it was.”

~ ~ ~

Neither of them get much sleep that night. Whenever Sascha closes his eyes, he sees the guard, the eyes boring into his, threatening, hating. He holds onto Dominic for dear life, shaking under the covers. Dominic spends the night watching him, and staring at the ceiling when he thinks that Sascha is asleep.

Sascha insists on going to work in the morning. Not because he feels well enough to go, but he is scared not to go. Dominic walks him to the library, and waits for him after work to walk him home again. Sascha knows that it can’t be like this forever, but at the moment, it really helps.

“You know what scares me the most?” Sascha whispers when they sit on the sofa, sipping on the last cups of the tea Dominic had bought for Sascha.

“What?”

“That I didn’t see it coming. Or… that I thought it would never happen,” he says. “I got so used to living this life, as miserable as it was, but I was never truly scared. I thought that if I played by the rules, I was safe. But now… I don’t even know the rules.”

Dominic takes a breath. “Sascha, I…”

Sascha lifts his eyes to him. Dominic closes his mouth and smiles, but there is something not quite right about the smile.

“What is it?” Sascha asks.

“Nothing,” Dominic says.

“No, you wanted to say something.”

“Yeah, then you looked at me and I forgot,” Dominic smiles.

Sascha isn’t really buying it, but he smiles as well. “You should go home,” he says.

“Maybe I should,” Dominic says and moves closer. “But I don’t want to.”

_The moment isn’t right, but maybe it will never be better,_ Sascha thinks. It’s a chance to take his mind off of things, to forget about what is ahead. To live in the moment.

He melts into the kiss, tangling his fingers in Dominic’s hair. For a moment, it almost feels like a game, like they are fighting for who will get the upper hand. Then Sascha gives up and lets Dominic push him on his back.

“I love you,” Dominic whispers.

“I know,” Sascha smiles. “More than I deserve.”

“You deserve all the love in the world,” Dominic says. “Or at least, all of my love.”

Sascha blushes and turns his head to the side. Dominic takes a gentle, but firm hold of his jaw, and forces him to look him in the eyes.

“ _All_ of it,” he says.

~ ~ ~

Dominic still walks him to the library, but agrees to Sascha going back home on his own. After all, Sascha is not five, and having a bodyguard doesn’t solve anything.

When he comes back home for lunch, the phone rings. It almost causes Sascha a heart attack. Nobody ever calls him at this time. He picks up hesitantly.

“Hello?”

“It’s Roger.”

For a moment, Sascha wonders whether the custodian will now also check if he’s home during the lunch break.

“I need you to visit me today,” Roger says. “In my office.”

“Today?”

“After work, you’ll manage,” Roger says. “It won’t take long.”

“Okay,” Sascha says, heart beating madly in his chest. “I’ll be there.”

The rest of the afternoon is a haze. He can’t focus at all. Catastrophic scenarios are flashing through his mind. When he arrives at Roger’s office, his legs are threatening to give in under him.

He knocks on Roger’s door and walks in. Roger looks at him from behind his desk.

“Close and lock the door,” he says.

Sascha blinks in surprise, but closes the door and turns the key in the lock. Then he walks over to Roger’s table and sits down on the chair when the custodian points to it.

“Take it off,” he says quietly.

Sascha just stares at him.

“It’s okay,” Roger says. “Take it off, we need to talk.”

Sascha isn’t entirely sure that it’s okay because he’s never seen it written anywhere that there would be exemptions, but Roger is his custodian. He must know if it is or isn’t okay.

He takes the tape off and looks at him. It feels strange. All of this feels strange.

“You’ve probably figured out that this wasn’t an official meeting,” Roger says.

Sascha has, because if he did something wrong, he’d get an official invitation. Or the guards would come right to his place.

“I called you in here, because… I’m leaving, as you can see.”

Sascha looks around. There are half-packed boxes all over the office. “Why?” he asks. And he feels the queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, because despite Roger belonging to those who did this to him, he was perhaps the only one out of them protecting him. Since that fateful day when the school called the guards and alerted the government, Roger fought _for_ him, never against him. He fought for him with the enthusiasm of someone for whom the position of custodian was new, but who knew how to fight his battles.

Roger sighs. “Things are changing. You’ve maybe noticed.”

Sascha has. He remembers the guard on the street, and the looks people have been giving him, and Björn’s worried glances.

“They are making you leave,” Sascha states.

“I called you here to warn you,” Roger says. “You’re a smart boy, Sascha. You need to be careful. Don’t give them a chance.”

“A chance to do what?” Sascha asks and looks Roger in the eyes.

“The government has been trying to create an image of a flawless society for years. The plan is to start the international trade again, and if they want to open the door to the world, they need an illusion of freedom, an image of a society that is happy. People like you are not a part of that image.”

“I understand.”

“As long as there are at least some laws protecting you, make use of them,” Roger says and leans closer, lowering his voice. “Don’t give them a chance. Because they will not give you a single one.”

~ ~ ~

When he arrives home, Dominic is already waiting in front of his house, looking at his phone with worry.

“Oh, thank God!” he exclaims when he sees him. “I’ve been trying to call you, you weren’t answering…. I was worried, Sasch!”

Sascha sighs and unlocks the door. Dominic follows him upstairs, glancing at him uneasily.

“My custodian asked me to visit him today,” Sascha says when he closes the door. “He’s… they are making him leave, and he wanted to warn me.”

“Warn you?” Dominic asks.

Sascha nods. “He told me that…” he takes a deep breath. “He told me that the society doesn’t want us around anymore, basically. And they will do anything to get rid of us.”

Dominic sighs and nods for himself, plopping down on the sofa.

“What is it?” Sascha asks.

“Nothing,” Dominic says.

“No, it’s not. What are you not telling me?”

Dominic shakes his head. “It’s nothing. You can’t do anything about it anyway, there’s no need for you to worry about it.”

“I do worry,” Sascha says. “About you.”

“It sounds a lot like what they told me at school,” Domi says. “I mean… they told me that dating someone like you was not desirable for someone studying law. I told them it was not against the law, and they said it was against the university policies. It sure wasn’t against the university policies a month ago.”

Sascha just stares at him. Then he gets up and walks to the window. “Okay, that’s it,” he says. ”You need to leave now.”

“What?”

Sascha blinks back the tears that are prickling his eyes. “You need to leave and never come back, do you understand?”

“Why do you want me to sell you as your friends did?” Domi asks quietly.

Sascha looks at him desperately. “Because I know that they live happy lives now, and I live this! And I don’t want this for you.”

“But it is my life, my choice!”

Sascha presses both hands against his forehead, like he’s afraid that his head will split in half. “Don’t you understand?” he whispers. “The choice is not your law degree or me, the choice is a decent future or no future at all! I can’t let you destroy your life.”

Dominic reaches in the pocket of his jacket and throws something on the table. It takes Sascha a while to recognize a record book - he never got the chance to go to university. He flips through it in confusion. There is a thick red line across the grades - perfect grades, if Sascha can judge - and a stamp hastily printed over it, on every page.

“I’ve already made that choice,” Dominic says.

Sascha just stares at him, the record book still in his hand. “Why?” he whispers.

“I realized that it was ridiculous anyway,” Dominic says. “What’s the point of learning about laws that change constantly? To be a part of a system that is supposed to protect people, but it only destroys them? That was the true choice. I couldn’t possibly choose to be a part of the system that had hurt you, and wanted to hurt you even more.”

“But what do you want to do?” Sascha asks, cupping Dominic’s face like he can’t believe he’s real. “Wait until the system destroys me, and I drag you down with me?”

“And what if we don’t wait?” Dominic whispers.

Sascha blinks. “What?”

“Sascha, I… I’ve been thinking about this since the moment I met you. What if we try to get out?”

He doesn’t even have time to finish the sentence, because Sascha presses his fingers against Dominic’s lips.

“Stop!” he hisses. “Stop, if…. If anyone heard you…”

“Who could hear me here?” Dominic shrugs. “Sascha, you were right, there’s no future for us here. Not anymore.”

Sascha shakes his head. “You can’t get out. How do you want to cross the border? It’s impossible.”

“It’s not,” Dominic says. “People are doing it. Many have done it. There are ways… there are people who know the ways… I’m not saying it’s not dangerous. But it’s possible.”

Sascha knows that Dominic isn’t lying. Not like he’s ever heard of anyone who managed to get out, but if people weren’t trying, there would be no Fence and no armed guards patrolling the border zone.

“It costs a lot,” Dominic continues, like there’s no stopping him. “But I’ll figure something out. Money can’t stop us.”

Sascha looks at him, not hoping that he could talk sense into him, but he needs to at least try. “Domi, they will shoot us. Or worse.”

“Or they will not, and we’ll be free,” Dominic shrugs. “If there’s a chance, it’s worth it. Promise me you’ll at least think about it.”

Sascha sighs. “I promise,” he whispers.


	5. Five

Sascha never stops thinking about it. He even dreams about it at night. In those dreams, dogs are chasing them around the forests, they drown in a wild river, bullets fly around them. He hates the dreams, but also thinks that if he ever decides to go with the plan, at least he will be prepared.

Dominic doesn’t mention the plan again. They both know it’s not forgotten, but he’s giving Sascha time to process it. After all, it’s been on his mind for a long time. Sascha has never dared to think about it.

When he arrives at work one day, he crosses ways with the man in the grey coat who came to the library when the banned book incident took place. The man looks at him with the same sly satisfaction as before, and it makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

“Sascha,” Björn sighs when the man is gone. “I… you know I’ve never had anything against you. I was always satisfied with your work. But… it’s an order from above. We can’t employ… you know… from now on. I’m really sorry.”

Sascha takes a deep breath. It doesn’t matter that he can’t say anything to it. He wouldn’t know what to say anyway.

“I made sure they pay you for this month,” Björn adds.

_As if it solved anything._

He turns on his heels and runs up the stairs, not waiting for the elevator to arrive. When he finds himself on the street, he suddenly has no idea where to go or what to do. The first thought that crosses his mind is to call Roger, but then he remembers that Roger is gone. He doesn’t even know who his new custodian is. But since the authorities gave the library the order to fire him, it’s unlikely they would help him now.

He goes home, because he knows that staying outside is not the best idea. As soon as he closes the door, he sends a message to Dominic.

_Can you come?_

The answer comes immediately.

_Come where?_

_To my place._

Dominic turns up mere fifteen minutes later, looking confused.

“I thought you were at work,” he says.

“I was. For like two minutes, before I got fired,” Sascha says.

“Why?”

“Because it’s me,” Sascha shrugs. “Order from above, apparently people like me are not allowed to work anymore.”

Dominic sits on the sofa and shakes his head. “That’s madness, what are you supposed to do?”

“Nobody’s told me yet,” Sascha shrugs. “I should probably call my custodian, but I don’t even know who it is now. And I don’t care.”

They stay silent for a long time, just staring at the wall. It’s kind of comical, really. It’s just as Sascha knew it would be. They both lost everything. Only that unlike him, Dominic had a choice.

“I’ll do this,” Sascha says quietly. “I’ll run away with you, but only if you promise me one thing.”

Dominic turns his head to face him. “What?”

“That when we get out… if we get out… wherever we are, we won’t stay silent.”

Dominic keeps looking at him. “You are really thinking about it?” he asks.

“Yes. Before, I wasn’t so sure, but… what do I have to lose now?” Sascha shrugs. “And I think that if I don’t do it with you, you’ll do it alone sooner or later, and I just don’t want to lose you.”

Dominic’s lips shake. “I would never leave you,” he whispers.

Sascha smiles bitterly. “Never is a strong word,” he says. “But tell me about the plan. If there’s one.”

Dominic hesitates. “I found a person who… knows someone who could get us false documents to enter the border zone,” he says. “And once we would be there, there are people who know the secret ways to cross the border.”

“And go where?” Sascha asks.

“Switzerland.”

Sascha nods. It sounds logical, it even sounds… easy. Only that he knows it’s everything but easy.

“What’s the problem then?” he asks.

“Money,” Dominic says. “I don’t have enough, I don’t even have anything that valuable to sell… I have my car, that’s it… and I’m afraid that we’re going to need it, so…”

Sascha thinks for a moment. Then he pulls his necklaces out from underneath his T-shirt and takes them off. Dominic blinks when he hands them to him. “Sell them,” Sascha says. “Or if they’ll take them for payment…”

“Sascha,” Dominic sighs. “I didn’t mean…”

“This is the only thing I can do for this… for us,” Sascha shrugs. “I would have to sell them anyway, since I have no job now.”

“Okay,” Dominic says and stuffs the necklaces in his pocket. “I’ll talk to that guy today.”

“Be careful,” Sascha says and hugs him. “You’re everything I have. I can’t lose you.”

And the realization that he is no more worried for himself, but for somebody else, is the scariest part of it all.

~ ~ ~

The sound of an incoming message tears Sascha out of his drowse. He’s desperately trying not to fall asleep, because Dominic said they would leave in the early morning, but didn’t specify when. He had thought that he would be so nervous that sleep would be out of question, but he actually feels quite tired.

The message is short.

_Open the door._

Sascha gets up and makes way to the door, then unlocks it quietly. Dominic is standing right there. There is another guy standing next to him. Sascha startles.

“It’s okay, it’s my friend,” Dominic whispers. “He got us the documents.”

Sascha nods, but still looks at the guy with suspicion. He doesn’t trust anyone except Dominic, and he doesn’t believe in the word “friend” anymore. Also, if someone got them the documents, they should grab the money and never meet them again, not lounge around Sascha’s place in the middle of the night.

“We need to get rid of your chip,” Dominic says, locking the door again.

Sascha gasps. “What?”

“It doesn’t only tell the guards you should be wearing the tape, they could also track you with it,” Dominic says. “We need to get it out.”

Sascha feels his head spin. This is becoming too real. “But… how?”

“Dennis will do it,” Dominic says. “He’s a medic.”

The boy smiles. He definitely already has the professional smile that doctors have. _I’m about to cut off your leg, but it’s gonna be fine._

“Okay,” Sascha hears himself say.

“Good, I’ll get the stuff ready,” Dennis says. “Draw the curtains, or whatever… nobody needs to see what we’re doing.”

Dominic keeps rubbing Sascha’s back while Dennis is preparing his provisional operating room. There’s disinfectant, and sterile sheets and everything, and Sascha isn’t really that much worried about the pseudo-surgery as he is about the consequences of it.

“Do you remember where it is?” Dennis asks.

Sascha nods and lays a finger on the underside of his right forearm. He can’t see nor feel the chip, but he will always remember the moment they jabbed the needle in him and placed it there. He didn’t cry then, even though it hurt like hell. He only cried when he put the red tape over his mouth for the first time. That hurt way more.

“I’m sorry but I don’t really have anything to numb it,” Dennis says. “I couldn’t steal anything at the hospital, they’d notice. I have some numbing cream, but that will only numb the skin, and not completely. It’s more for… waxing your legs than cutting a hole in your arm.”

“It’s okay,” Sascha says. He’s lying on the sofa, with his right arm laid out on the coffee table next to it. Nothing about this is okay, but he has no choice.

“Really?”

“Yes. Just do it.”

Dennis scratches his hair. “But I need you to keep as still as possible. After all, we’re looking for something quite tiny.”

Sascha nods and turns to Dominic. “Hold me down.”

Dominic looks like he wants to run away. Sascha guesses that he had hoped he’d wait in the other room until it would be over.

“Don’t tell me you can’t see blood or anything like that,” Dennis rolls his eyes.

“I’m not a fan of it, yeah,” Dominic mumbles.

“No problem. If you faint on him, it’s actually even better,” Dennis grins.

“Shut up,” Dominic growls and climbs up on top of Sascha. To say it is awkward would be an understatement.

“Ready?” Dennis asks.

Sascha nods. He’s not ready at all.

The process seems to take hours. Dennis is practically digging in his arm, trying to find something the size of a grain of rice. Sascha whimpers.

“I know, I know,” Domi whispers and wipes off the single tear rolling down Sascha’s cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

“I got it,” Dennis says cheerfully. “Tiny motherfucker.”

Sascha turns his head and watches Dennis drop the chip on a plate. It’s a tiny piece of metal, but Sascha feels like an immense weight is gone.

“I’ll just stitch it up now,” Dennis says. “I tried to make the cut as small as possible… If we put a bandage on it, it should be fine. I’ll leave you some antibiotics, take those just in case, and some painkillers.”

Dominic gets up, trying to avoid looking at the bloody mess on the table. Sascha looks around the place while Dennis is stitching the wound, the pain of it being almost nothing compared to the previous procedure. The apartment almost doesn’t look like Sascha is about to leave it forever. He wonders if he’s actually attached to it at all. He wonders what Dominic’s place looks like. He never got to see it. He never got to meet his family, and maybe it’s for the better.

“We’re done,” Dennis says and starts to pack all his things. “Remember, you got the fake documents, but try to avoid people looking at them too closely, okay?”

Dominic nods.

“Once you get inside the border zone, the smuggler will be waiting for you,” Dennis says.

“May I ask you something?” Sascha asks and looks at him. “Why don’t you do it yourself? Why don’t you leave?”

Dennis looks at him. “Maybe I will, one day,” he says. “But the time’s not right for me.”

Sascha nods. He can quite understand what Dennis means. The time wasn’t right for him either, a few weeks ago. Now, he feels like he’s been here for just a minute too long.

“We need to go,” Dominic says softly.

Sascha nods. Before he crosses the threshold, he pauses, as the thought of the red tape automatically pops up in his head. Only when he walks out without it, the fear starts to really get to him.

~ ~ ~

It is still dark outside. The street is quiet and the windows are dark. Dominic’s car is parked among the others, like it belongs there. The license plate, however, is different than the one Sascha remembers. Dennis apparently thought of everything.

Sascha is the one guarding the forged passports and IDs, safely tucked in the breast pocket of his jacket. The passports that cost Sascha’s necklaces, all of them. Dominic would pay the smuggler, with all the money he managed to save since he was a little kid, and some he got from selling things, including the old leather-bound law book he got from his grandfather. Sascha insisted that he’d be the one having the passports, just in case anyone would stop them and find out they were up to something illegal. If Sascha was the one having the evidence on him, at least Dominic would have a fighting chance.

They almost don’t speak in the car. Dominic doesn’t even switch on the music, because it would soon start to get on their nerves. He only does it when they are approaching the first checkpoint. They are just going for a short trip, visiting their relatives in the border zone, there are just two small backpacks in the backseat, and surely they would be in a good mood. Listening to music, crossing this first invisible border casually. In their fake past, they’ve done so many times already.

The uniformed guard is a woman, and Sascha doesn’t even know why, but it calms him down slightly. It might be only that a woman has never hurt him, that he’s never seen a woman do anything vile, that no women wore the grey uniforms. Dominic stops the car and squeezes Sascha’s hand briefly until she comes to their car. Then he rolls down the window and turns the volume down.

“Morning,” the woman - a girl, almost - says in a lewd tone of voice. “Your documents, please.”

Sascha reaches in his pocket, trying to look calm and casual, but his hand is still shaking when he’s handing her the documents. Luckily, he can blame it on the cold. The heating isn’t on in the car, as they need to save the gas as much as possible.

“Purpose of the visit?” she asks without looking at them, as she is studying the documents.

“We’re visiting our grandparents,” Dominic says, and Sascha marvels at how calm he sounds.

The girl lifts her eyes. “You two are related?”

“Cousins,” Dominic says. 

She hums noncommittally, then looks over to the backseat, at their backpacks, almost like she’s deciding whether she should search them.

“If you’re going to the border zone, you’ll need a special permit at the next checkpoint,” she says then. “You have it?”

“Yes,” Sascha says when he realizes that he should also say something. It feels awkward, talking to a stranger. Terrifying, even. It’s hard to remember he’s not wearing the tape anymore, and that no chip will alert the guard. Although the pain in his forearm, the bandages hidden under the layers of clothing, should remind him of it.

The guard only glances at the permit, but doesn’t check it thoroughly, leaving it to the guards at the other checkpoint. “Just checking, lately we’ve had many people sent back from the zone,” she says. “Just means extra work.” Then she hands Sascha the IDs back. “You may continue.”

It takes a second of lingering before Dominic starts the car again and rolls up the window. It’s like he can’t believe it at all. The guard walks back inside the booth and lifts the barrier, letting them pass.

“The hell was Dennis thinking?” Dominic yells when they leave the checkpoint. “As if we looked anything alike!”

Sascha laughs, the euphoria of their first little win taking over momentarily. “You should’ve at least bleached your hair or something.”

The road is nearly empty here. Hardly anyone has the right to live here or travel here. Only rightful citizens with impeccable records are allowed in the zone. That’s the role the two of them are playing. Cousins, students, going to visit their grandparents before Christmas. Their parents are too busy to go, they sent them instead. There is even a wrapped Christmas gift somewhere in Dominic’s backpack, just in case a guard would want to search it, because you should bring your grandparents presents, right? 

He can’t fight the feeling that this elaborate backstory about their family is a crutch to help them walk on. Thinking about this fictional family to not think about their real families they’ve left behind. They’ve never talked about it, and Sascha thinks that they never will. For him, it may be easier. He’s made the decision to cut his family out of his life a long time ago. Sure, they called from time to time, they saw each other a few times a year, but it was still different from Dominic’s situation. His change was gradual, he lived alone for years. Dominic would return to his family nearly every day. He spent time with his brother, he had loving parents, he had Hugo. And all of a sudden, it was all gone.

And it’s not just losing them, Sascha knows, while Dominic maybe only suspects. When the authorities realize they ran away, they will question everyone. Even for something as stupid as what Sascha had done, his parents were at risk of losing their jobs, Mischa almost got kicked out of school as well, they were denied every application they ever submitted to the authorities, there was no way they could travel, or be promoted at work. He wouldn’t be surprised if for this, their families ended up in prison. When he remembers, a part of him wants to jump out of the car and run back.

“What about your arm?” Dominic asks when they take the turn that leads to the last checkpoint before the border. Then there will be forests, and mountains. Beyond them, freedom, but Sascha doesn’t dare to imagine it. “Hurts?”

“No,” Sascha shakes his head. “Not too bad.”

He’s not lying. The adrenaline combined with the painkillers he got from Dennis is working wonders. He wishes it could numb the fear same as it numbs the pain.

It also reminds him that he can’t run back. The damage is done. He can’t just return the chip under his skin where it first was, and pretend nothing ever happened.

“Don’t you want to give me the permits?” Dominic asks. “I mean… the person having them will probably have to do the talking.”

“I’ll do it,” Sascha says firmly.

He suspects that this test will be harder than the previous one, but he wants to take the risk. He wants to know that he did everything he could.

The checkpoint looks just like the previous one, but there are more guards, and they are all armed. Dominic stops the car. Two guards walk up to it, motioning for them to get out.

“IDs, permits, car documents,” one of them says, while the other walks around the car.

Sascha hands him all the documents. The guard studies them closely. Sascha can almost head Dennis’ voice. _Try to avoid people looking at them too closely._ Easy to say, but how…

“What is that?” the other guard’s voice sounds from the car.

They both turn around, and the first guard stops reading the permits. The other guard has been going through their backpacks, apparently, and is now holding the pills Dennis gave to Sascha before they left. Well, like this, in an unlabeled plastic bag, they do look suspicious indeed.

“It’s mine,” Sascha says, and somehow his voice doesn’t shake. “They’re just painkillers, and something for fever. I… I usually catch cold up there in the mountains.”

The guard holding the pills shoots an unsure look at his colleague. “Kevin?”

“Why didn’t you take the original packaging?” the one holding the documents asks.

“I…” Sascha starts, and suddenly he feels like a kid trying to come up with a plausible excuse for some missing cookies. “I thought there were regulations? Like… and I didn’t want to take too much… because it’s going to be a short trip.” God, he’s babbling.

Finally, Dominic jumps in. “Look, you can keep it here or throw it away,” he says. “It’s not a problem, I’m sure our grandparents have some medicine in case my cousin catches cold again.”

The other guy looks appeased, and he tucks the bag in his pocket. Sascha isn’t entirely sure that he’s going to dispose of the pills. After all, medicine is a valuable commodity now. Kevin, however, still looks mistrustful. Being suspected of doing drugs is slightly better than being suspected of doing what they are actually doing, but still bad nonetheless.

“Is there anything else that’s…” he glances at the half-searched backpacks.

“No, just… clothes, some snacks…” the other guard says, digging in the backpacks again. “A thermos flask… and this.” He pulls out the wrapped present.

“That’s for our grandparents,” Dominic says.

“Well?” Kevin raises his brows.

“What? I’m not going to open it!” the other guard says, outraged. “It’s a Christmas present!”

“You’re so sentimental, Andreas!” Kevin rolls his eyes. “It could be a present for grandma. It could also be a gun.”

Andreas laughs. “It’s too light for a gun,” he says.

“It’s socks,” Dominic says. “Warm socks.”

Sascha knows that he’s not lying. They figured that it would be best to pack something they would need themselves.

Andreas feels the package for good measure, and then throws it back. Kevin, in the meanwhile, goes back to the booth, with all of their documents. Sascha wishes he could hold Dominic’s hand right now.

_If he decides to run anything through some system… or simply call the department that issues the permits… we are screwed._

He’s doing something, but it’s hard to guess what. After all, Andreas is still standing outside with them, and them trying to peek inside the booth would be more than suspicious. After what feels like eternity, he walks out and hands Sascha the permits. Stamped.

“The road to your destination is closed,” Kevin says. “We had strong wind some time ago, there are some fallen trees. You need to go around, the signs will direct you.”

Dominic nods, and gets back inside the car. Sascha follows his example, but due to his shaking hands, needs two attempts to close the door. Dominic starts the car, and Sascha can see it on his face that it takes all of his self-control not to drive as fast as the car would go. They take the turn leading to the road that is sneaking up the hill, up to the mountains, and the checkpoint finally disappears from their view.

Sascha covers his face and starts crying. 


	6. Six

The road ends with a barrier, and a sign telling them it is a dead end, they have to take a turn. Except they don’t take that turn. They are right where they need to be.

After driving off the road to a small clearing between the trees, Dominic locks the car, unscrews the license plate and hands it to Sascha, who puts it in his backpack. Just another piece of evidence, another nail in the coffin in case they catch him. Then they spread a large sheet of khaki tarpaulin and cover the car with it.

After they slip under the barrier that closes the road, Sascha takes Dominic’s hand. The forest around them is quiet. From time to time, they have to step over fallen branches lying across the road. Sascha thinks that it can’t be that hard to cut them into pieces and clear the road, it could take a day or two, but something tells him nobody wants to do it. It’s easier to close this road. One less to control.

At the end of the road, just before it turns into a narrow path leading up, there’s a man waiting for them, just as Dennis said there would be. They only know that his name is Oliver, and that he knows the passage to get across the border without getting fried to death on the Fence.

There is also a young woman, dressed just like them, in warm clothes and outdoor shoes, with a backpack over her shoulder. She gives them a nervous smile.

Oliver looks at them like he’s trying to assess whether they are even worth the risk. “First things first, you got the money?” he asks.

Dominic looks at Sascha, then reaches in his pocket and pulls out the stash of money. Oliver nods and stuffs it in his own pocket.

“There’s a cottage up in the hills,” he says. “We’ll sleep there, and get going early in the morning. If any of you were so stupid and brought phones, throw them away now.”

The three of them look at each other confusedly.

“Well, you’d be surprised how many idiots bring their phones and try to call their families before crossing the border,” Oliver growls. “Fine, let’s go.”

They start walking up the path. The forest is quiet, save for a lone crow every now and then, and the crackling of twigs under their feet. It’s also damn cold. Sascha digs up the thermos flask from his backpack. The tea isn’t hot anymore, it’s rather warm, but better than nothing. He passes it to Dominic, and when Dominic returns it back, Sascha offers a cup to the woman.

“Thank you,” she says, returning the empty cup to him. “I’m Angie, by the way.”

“Keep this for later, you’re not on a school trip!” Oliver growls, apparently quite nervous. He keeps looking around cautiously, like he expect something - or someone - to jump from behind every tree.

They walk seemingly for hours. Sometimes the path disappears under their feet and they have to climb up steep slopes, holding onto tree trunks and roots. Dominic looks just fine, almost like he’s enjoying it. For Sascha, it’s different. Save for the little trip with Dominic, Sascha hasn’t been anywhere further than the park in his city since he was sixteen.

“Can we stop for a moment?” he asks.

Oliver doesn’t even turn around. “No.”

It’s quite clear that if they protest any further, he is determined to just leave them there, so Sascha doesn’t even try to argue.

“How far is it now?” Angie asks. Apparently, she is struggling as well.

“Two miles, three, not more,” Oliver says.

Sascha wants to cry.

“Are you okay?” Dominic asks quietly.

Sascha nods, but he’s apparently not very convincing, because Dominic looks concerned.

“Give this to me,” he says and pulls the backpack off Sascha’s shoulder.

“But…”

“I’ll take care of this. You focus on one thing.”

“And that is?” Sascha asks.

“Walking and not falling, okay?”

Sascha gives him a tired smile. “Fine, I’ll try.”

~ ~ ~

The cottage is small and the equipment has seen better days, but it’s at least relatively warm and clean in there. Oliver gives each of them a sleeping bag.

“We’ll leave early in the morning,” he says. “Try to get some sleep, you’ll need it.”

He leaves the room then, and they hear him rummaging somewhere behind the door. Sascha takes off his sweater and checks on the bandage. It looks clean. Then he glances across the room. Angie is watching him with a slight smile. He raises his brows in question, and she pulls up the sleeve of her sweater and shows him a similarly looking bandage.

Sascha scoots closer. “What did you do?” he asks. “I mean, why were you…”

“I am… I was a journalist,” Angie says. “I wrote an article they didn’t like. They would probably just fire me if they caught it in time, but somehow it made it past the censorship, so everyone could read it.” She props her chin on her bent knees and looks at him. “What about you?”

“Something quite similar,” Sascha says. “Except I didn’t write the article. I just distributed it. Back in high school. My friends saved themselves by testifying against me.”

Angie nods. “What did he do?” she asks then, glancing over to Dominic.

“Nothing,” Sascha says. “He’s here because of me.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I used to think we had hope here. But then... I realized that we were not wanted here anymore,” he says. “That our silence wasn’t enough. So I promised myself to tell the truth if I get out. The only thing I fear is… they won’t believe us.”

Angie nods slowly. “I fear the same thing,” she says. “That’s why I have this.”

She reaches in her pocket and shows Sascha a flash drive.

“What’s that?” Sascha asks.

“Evidence,” Angie says. “Pictures, scanned documents, everything. If I show them this, they’ll have to believe.”

She hides the flash drive again and looks at him.

“Not staying silent is the only thing we can do to really get our freedom,” she says.

~ ~ ~

They get little sleep. Sascha feels like it’s impossible to just fall asleep, knowing what awaits them tomorrow. Whenever he turns his head to look at Dominic, he sees his eyes glint in the darkness.

They get up before the sun even comes up. Oliver is waiting outside, dressed in a cameo coat, looking like he’s about to go for a hunt. Although it’s far more likely that something is going to hunt them.

“Remember,” he says. “If anything happens, everyone is responsible for themselves.”

It’s definitely not very reassuring.

They soon leave the path leading down from the cottage, and enter the forest instead. Everything looks blue in the early morning light. There is no path, no leads, but Oliver seems to know exactly where he is going.

About an hour into the journey, a sound cuts through the silence of the forest. Growing nearer. A car engine.

“Down!” Oliver hisses.

There is a road right above them. With nowhere better to hide, they are huddled together, pressed against the mud of the slope, between the roots ingrown in it. A large truck drives right above their heads. They don’t dare to move long minutes after it’s gone.

“This area is heavily guarded,” Oliver says. “Be careful.”

Sascha would like to tell him that they can hardly be careful when they don’t even know where they are, but swallows it, because he doesn’t want to make him mad on top of everything. They continue their way through the forest, and sometimes, Sascha gets the feeling that Oliver actually is following some marks that are invisible for them, because it would be impossible to navigate through the wilderness otherwise.

Then, the forest changes. It is still wild and gloomy, and quiet, but something is different. There are fences. Lines of barbed wire and cement columns, cutting one part of the forest from the rest. It’s more than obvious that they are uninvited here, that they shouldn’t be here. It looks like a labyrinth, but Oliver seems to know his way.

Suddenly, Dominic pulls on Sascha’s sleeve and points somewhere between the trees. They can see the valley and river from there, and the border. It’s close, it seems to be right under their feet.

“Hide!” Oliver whispers suddenly, tearing them from the daze. He must see or hear what they don’t see yet.

There is not much around to hide them, save for tree trunks and fallen branches around the path.

The two guards that appeared seemingly out of nowhere, walk right past them. Sascha thanks God that they don’t have a dog. If they did, the dog would surely sniff them.

Then someone moves, or barely shifts, and the sound of cracking twigs cuts through the silence. It’s not even loud, but for the guards’ trained ears, it’s a cue to turn around and take the rifles off their shoulders.

The first shot sounds above their heads, and sends them running.

The slope is steep, but full of trees, making it the better option than the open space, considering the bullets flying around. Still, another burst makes Sascha lose his footing and roll down the rest of the slope. Judging from what he hears and sees out of the corners of his eyes, it’s the same for everyone else.

He lands in the mud and stays still for a while. The fire ceases. Sascha turns his head carefully. Dominic is looking at him, white as the wall, still covering his head. Then he looks in the opposite direction.

“Angie?” he whispers.

He tries to get up. It hurts. Everything hurts. 

“Angie!”

She is not moving. Sascha reaches for her shoulder and turns her around, although he’s scared of what he’s going to see. Although he _knows_ what he’s going to see.

“Let’s go, damnit!” Oliver barks, already on his feet.

“Sascha!” Dominic says, trying to pull him away. “Everyone for themselves, remember?”

Sascha nods, still in some sort of a trance. When he finally scrambles up to follow Oliver and Dominic, they are well ahead of him.

“You have to cross now,” Oliver says. “Before they get here.”

There is no hole in the fence, no open gate, nothing. It tells them that this is not the best place to cross, not the place they were supposed to cross the border at, but Oliver simply can’t take a bigger risk here.

Dominic takes off his backpack and throws it over the fence. Sascha follows his example. He doesn’t fully comprehend how they got over the fence, until they jump down on the other side, clothes torn in places from the wires, hands scratched from the rough concrete of the pillar they used to climb it.

When they turn back, Oliver is gone.

They run for another hundred meters before they hear the voices shouting at them. Sascha’s blood freezes in his veins until he realizes that the voices don’t come from behind their backs, and that the guards in front of them are wearing uniforms he doesn’t recognize.

They both throw their hands up, but Dominic also laughs, a bit hysterically. Sascha wants to laugh as well, but he’s suddenly too tired and dizzy. He slowly lowers his hands and stumbles forward. Dominic catches him, apparently preferring being shot to letting him fall.

“Sascha,” Dominic says, and his eyes are wide. “Sascha!”

He stares at his hand that comes back stained red. Sascha stares at it too. He doesn’t understand. He can’t feel anything.

He keeps looking at Dominic until he can no longer keep his eyes open.

“Not now,” he hears Dominic whisper. “Not like this, not now…”

Then someone is screaming, and some voices are maybe answering, or it could be just an echo.

~ ~ ~

When he opens his eyes again, everything is white. The walls, the sheets on the bed, the snow behind the window. The coat of the man standing next to the bed.

“Where am I?” Sascha whispers, his heart beating madly in his chest.

“You’re in a hospital,” the man says. “You were-“

“But in what country?”

“Switzerland.”

His heart calms down a little, before another wave of panic washes over him.

“Where is Dominic?”

The doctor looks confused. “Who?”

“Dominic, where is he?”

“I honestly don’t have any idea,” the doctor sighs. “But there is someone from the police who wants to talk to you, and maybe he can give you the answer. If you’re feeling well enough?”

Sascha nods. He would agree even if he was dying, because he needs to know. But apparently he is not dying, because the doctor just nods and leaves the room. Another man enters just seconds after him.

“Stan Wawrinka,” he says and shows him some badge Sascha couldn’t care less about, since he’s never seen it in his life anyway. He wouldn’t be able to tell even if it was fake. “From Border Guard. I am here to…”

“Where is Dominic?” Sascha interrupts him. “What have you done with him?”

Wawrinka looks at him like he’s trying to assess his mental state. “You entered the country with fake documents,” he explains slowly, like Sascha is an idiot. “Illegally.”

It takes Sascha a while to realize that this was, in fact, the answer. “You’ve arrested him,” he whispers.

“Obviously,” Wawrinka nods. “And we haven’t arrested you yet just because you are here.” He pulls out the fake documents. “I suppose this is not your real name.”

Sascha shakes his head.

“Well, then I suggest you start with your real name, before we get to where you got hold of these documents,” Wawrinka says. “It will make the whole process a lot faster and easier for you.”

Sascha doesn’t even know what he is saying. He doesn’t care anymore. If this is the promised freedom, then he doesn’t want it anymore. Not without Dominic.

“So we’re going to prison?” he asks when Wawrinka puts away his notepad and gets up.

Wawrinka frowns. “No,” he says. “We are going to deport you. That’s the standard procedure.”

Sascha stares at him as the detective walks up to the door.

“Wait! You can’t! You can’t do that!” he screams. He is not even panicking anymore. He’s scared out of his mind. “If you deport us, they’ll kill us!” 

“I’m afraid that the law is not on your side,” Wawrinka says and shrugs.

“What kind of law do you have, then?” Sascha asks, falling back in the pillows and covering his face with his hands. He doesn’t want to cry in front of the policeman, but tears are already stinging his eyes. So close, they were so close… And now they’ll ship them back like sheep for the slaughter. “Do you really think that we would risk our lives to cross the border for nothing? Do you think…”

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” Wawrinka says calmly. “We have an agreement with your country on this. And I’m sure that you’re seeing this in a very negative way.”

“I have seen a guard shoot a person on the street for not wearing tape over their mouth,” Sascha says. “They killed a woman who was trying to cross the border with us, they almost killed me, and I’m seeing this in a negative way?”

Wawrinka doesn’t look impressed. Sascha is openly crying now. If he sees him, so what? He’ll be dead in a few days, and he’s never promised himself he wouldn’t die a coward.

“Can you… Can you at least deport us at the same time?” he asks, looking out of the window before turning his face to the policeman. “Or at least let me see him before… I have to see him again, at least once, please!”

Wawrinka gives him a long look. “You are not bluffing, are you?”

Sascha shakes his head.

Wawrinka sighs and sits on the chair again. “Look, I… Off the record. I would like to help you. But as I said, law is not on your side. Your country isn’t at war, officially there is no reason why you couldn’t return there. Unless you can prove that you would indeed be persecuted by state authorities…”

Prove. _If I show them this, they’ll have to believe._

“My things,” he whispers. “Where are my things?”

Wawrinka blinks. “I suppose they are somewhere here. Why?”

“Maybe I have something to prove it.”

Wawrinka still looks skeptical, but he walks out of the room and talks to someone. A nurse enters the room a few minutes later, carrying a plastic bag. Sascha digs in it furiously until he feels the small piece of metal. Angie’s flash drive.

“Take this,” he says and hands it to Wawrinka.

“What is this?” the policeman asks.

“I don’t know, really,” Sascha admits. “But maybe it will prove that I’m not lying.”

~ ~ ~

The next days are a blur. He spends them crying, imagining his own death, imagining Dominic’s death, hating the whole world and trying to talk himself out of having any hope.

When the doctors say he is cleared, he almost wishes he could swap places with Angie. Why delay the inevitable?

Wawrinka walks inside the room and folds his arms. “Someone’s here to see you.”

He pushes the door to open it wider. Sascha holds his breath, expecting the worst. When the person walks in, he thinks that he’s dreaming.

Dominic looks like he can’t believe his eyes either. It takes him long seconds to cross the room and hug him. Sascha hisses when Dominic wraps his arms tightly around him, his recent wound not liking it in the slightest.

“You’re… I… I didn’t believe them,” he whispers. “I thought you were dead and they were lying, to get me to tell them everything.”

“I’m not dead,” Sascha whispers.

There is the unspoken “ _yet”_ hanging in the air.

“Did you look at the flash drive?” he asks the policeman, not letting go of Dominic.

“Yes,” Wawrinka nods.

“And? Was there anything…”

“I have no idea what was on it,” Wawrinka says. “But I’m told our government is very interested in it, and I believe that some foreign policies towards your country have been put on hold.”

Sascha nods. At least something. At least their deaths will have some meaning.

“Including the policy of deporting people like you back in your country,” Wawrinka adds. “Which doesn’t mean that crossing the border illegally with fake documents is by any means good.”

“So… so you’re not… sending us back?” Sascha whispers.

“Not for the time being,” Wawrinka says and walks to the door again. “Fill these in when you have time,” he says, putting two forms on the table. “I’ll be waiting outside.”

Dominic looks up at Sascha.

“The first thing you do is ask for lawyer, you fool,” he says. “Not throw a flash drive in someone’s face!”

Sascha shrugs. “I’m not the law student here.”

“Right,” Dominic says, finally letting go of him and walking over to the table. “So I better take care of these.”

“What is it?” Sascha asks.

“Asylum applications,” Dominic says and looks at him. “We made it, Sascha.”

Sascha takes a deep breath. He thought this moment would be different. Liberating. But he got his moment of hope ruined at the borders, and he’s afraid to fall for it twice.

“Not yet, I guess,” he says. “I mean… they can still throw us in jail.”

Dominic smiles and shakes his head. After all, he knows more about the law than Sascha does. “They won’t,” he says. “But if they do, it wasn’t so bad there. Maybe we could get the same cell. Or at least neighboring ones. We’d have to learn the Morse code, but…”

“Shut up,” Sascha says and finally, he laughs. Then he presses his lips against Dominic’s. “Shut up,” he mumbles against them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * The “Fence” is inspired by the Iron Border, same as them crossing it illegally is inspired by real stories from the Communist era, when many people died trying to escape the country. There were people whose illegal job was to help them cross the border, as they knew the secret ways. Some of the scenes were inspired by [this music video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KzEdxAPNAiM), which depicts that.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is <3.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Out of all the reason you chose to stay, you chose me.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22291003) by [SergeantErwin26](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SergeantErwin26/pseuds/SergeantErwin26)




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